


blow

by korekiyomo



Category: New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Emetophilia, Face-Fucking, M/M, Non-Consensual, Omorashi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-27
Updated: 2017-03-27
Packaged: 2018-10-11 15:16:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10467999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/korekiyomo/pseuds/korekiyomo
Summary: Humans have an unlimited beauty, and Korekiyo wants to see it from Saihara specifically.





	

**Author's Note:**

> this is bad. like mega bad. this as garbage as it gets and i am So Sorry.  
> but korekiyo is such good fodder for this content.
> 
> {for more garbage content, find me @korekiyomo on twitter!}

How pretty. Korekiyo’s toy was perched up so nicely in his chair, straw rope squeezing at fragile extremities to keep them in place. There was no running now. No matter how hard it was to get him into this chair and tie him down, no matter how much he struggled, he was in the anthropologist’s bandaged hands now. Saihara had always been an object of interest, but it was clear as day that he was made uncomfortable around him. That put a damper on things, didn’t it? That would just mean force would have to be used. In the end, Korekiyo would get what he wanted. 

Stood in front of the chair where the smaller teen struggled against restraints, eyes looking up at him pleadingly, he ran fingers along his cloth covered chin. What did he want from the boy? What reactions did he want to see from him? If he were to be honest, the complaining and whining about ‘letting him go’ and ‘stopping’ was getting quite irritating. It was disturbing his work. 

“Ah, I know now.” It was then where he decided exactly what he wanted to see. Another chair from the room was plucked as he sat in front of the detective, legs prettily crossed as he lifted the other’s chin with a dainty finger. “You have quite a cute mouth. It’s a shame so many drab things are coming from it. It’d be much cuter if you couldn’t speak.” 

Not wasting a single second, two fingers jammed their way into Saihara’s mouth, the muffled sounds of protest already causing a sadistic grin to spread on Korekiyo’s hidden lips. There was no reason for him to take the bandages that cloaked his hands off, and that extra thickness, the feeling of the cotton against his tongue, was drying out his mouth almost immediately, making it hard to breathe. Watching every little reaction from him was exactly what he came here to do, spreading his long fingers out and examining how he would shut his eyes, whatever saliva he was managing to form beginning to pool towards the entrance of his mouth.

“Ah, yes, you’re much more enthralling this way. You’re trembling, aren’t you? Are you scared, Saihara-san?” His unoccupied hand was placed on Saihara’s thigh to hold himself up, his face at about eye level with him. “Oh, are those tears I see? How precious. I’d lick them up if I could.” He could feel him trembling, especially his legs, and if it didn’t mean unzipping his mask, he’d lap up those cute tears in a heartbeat, maybe even run his tongue over his eye itself. Humans were exceptionally beautiful when petrified like this. The boy even stopped resisting at this point, as if he given into the fate he was about to face, yet, in those grey eyes, you could see him begging to be let go. This wasn’t even the worst of it! Were his limits so weak? That would be quite pathetic if so. 

Perhaps that’s the sign that he should push these limits further, a third finger joining and making the detective’s mouth uncomfortably full. If it wasn’t hard to breathe before, it certainly was becoming impossible now, all that saliva building up beginning to pour down the corner of his mouth, dripping onto his lap where Korekiyo’s free hand rested. Between the rough material, the taste of the bandages, and the pure lack of room in his mouth, Saihara couldn’t avoid gagging. Nothing too harsh, but in between the other’s ministrations, his throat would softly reject this feeling. Don’t think this went unnoticed by the folklorist. Whatever boundaries he could push, he’d gladly do so, and to earn a gag from him was highly amusing. It only fueled him to take this further and further. With a signature ‘kukuku,’ the added finger had left, leaving two behind to begin pressing and pulling and toying with his tongue in between them. He’d give the muscle a yank now and again, just to hear more sweet sounds from his experiment, each gag growing a bit more violent. 

He was crying. The way his body shook and how his lungs begged for air, he was reaching his edge. “Beautiful,” was softly muttered as the anthropologist took a moment to bask in the other’s expression. What a sight to behold; drooling, quivering and tears streaming down such rosy red cheeks. It was perhaps the most beautiful sight a human in this school could have provided. But that wasn’t enough. Certainly not yet. The fun was only just beginning. This could be considered child’s play. 

“Why are you so scared, Saihara-san? Seeing you react in such away is quite delectable… Are you truly that terrified of me?” Some kind of leader this boy is. He submitted so easily to him that he was beginning to believe that maybe he wanted this all along? Or he could just be delirious, which is the better guess. Those digits that squirmed in the other’s mouth were pushed further to the back of his throat, aiming to get as far in as he possibly could. With no sign of this coming, the smaller boy’s body jumped, a loud heave sounding from him. Desperately, he wanted to reach his hands up to stop him from sliding in any further, but with these restraints, it was impossible. He was finally making a fuss again to get him to stop-- he’d do anything to get him to stop, but the more he struggled, and thrashed around, the deeper the fingers went down his throat. 

“What’s the matter? Do you not want to play anymore? Humans are so beautiful when they’re completely hopeless. They struggle so much right before they completely give in. You’re the most beautiful like this.” It wasn’t often there was much emotion in Korekiyo’s voice, only when he was getting  _ excited  _ like this. He was getting breathy, and far too into it as he now had his knee located between the other’s legs, golden eyes glinting with a kind of pleasure that most people don’t see from him. This was the only thing that got his rocks off, really. “Saihara-san, I’m trembling… this desire I feel, it’s so erotic. Look at you, pathetically gagging on my fingers.” 

Despite all his struggles, just one more waggle of Korekiyo’s fingers and his body couldn’t take it anymore, his gag reflex worn thin. Every muscle in his body tensed as his throat convulsed, acid and whatever other contents from his stomach rising up and within a second, violently spewed all up the folklorist’s arm and into his own lap, dripping down onto his chest and the chair below them. The vomit felt like it was burning hot even through his clothes and that fact that he just puked on the both of them left him more terrified. 

“My, look at that. You’ve vomited. Your expression was so lovely as you did so. Let me see more gorgeous faces from you, Saihara-san.” The torture wasn’t over yet, and despite being covered in regurgitated mess, his fingers disgustingly sticky, he kept on spreading them, rubbing circles down his throat. Not even the mask could hide how large his grin was as he tilted his head up to get a better view of his work. He wanted him to keep suffering. His pain was so alluring. Although the detective was lead to believe most of his contents had already been forced out, he was proven otherwise as once again, food coming back up and gushing out onto the other’s arm, significantly less than the first time. 

“Oh, how delightful. It’s such a warm, wet feeling, Saihara-san. Can you feel it? -- Ah?” While all too focused on the mess he was making from his mouth, he discovered yet another mess he was making in the process. The knee that was tucked between his legs was growing to feel… wet. Not a thick wetness like the puke that covered his arm, but…. urine. He had to of been wetting himself. Narrow eyes that were so fixated on his face were brought to the teen’s crotch, the glistening wetness causing him to practically beam. Not only did he just vomit all over himself, but the boy was so frightened that he wet himself immediately afterwards. If he listened carefully enough, he could hear the pleasant hiss that came from him as the piss poured out from his pants and began flowing down off the chair and to the carpet. It was getting his knee all soaked. Not only did he get to witness these lovely reactions, he got to  _ feel  _ them as well, and he was in his glory. 

“You have completely lost control of your body, haven’t you? You couldn’t even control your bladder. Ah, I could burst just from the sight of it~”  By now, the words Korekiyo spoke were basically moaned out. 

It almost seemed as if he’d broken the boy, Saihara not even being capable of crying anymore, even though tears continued to roll down his cheeks silently. All he could do was sit there, immobilized by fear within his own mess. Finally, dirtied fingers left his mouth and all he could do was dry heave as he was left with the burning taste of his own puke, his entire throat feeling as if it was on fire. There was nothing left for him to throw up, but he kept on heaving as if it’d get rid of this disgusting feeling. All while Korekiyo stood and watched, that one knee pressing into his crotch once or twice to feel that warmth from his urine. The room was an absolute mess, he was an absolute mess, and Saihara was certainly the biggest mess. Well, it wasn’t his room, after all. He didn’t have to burden himself with cleaning. It wasn’t his mess either. Collapsing down into the chair he had initially pulled over for himself, Korekiyo’s breath quivered with excitement as he began fumbling with the zipper to his pants with his clean hand. After having received such a splendid show, there was no way he was putting it to waste. Once his dick sprung free from his pants, hand slick with vomit began to stroke, a quick pace right from the start. 

“Kukuku, Saihara-san, look what you’ve done. You’ve made such a mess, and most importantly, look how hard you’ve made me. It’s common courtesy to make up for what you’ve done, isn’t it? Use that filthy mouth of yours and put it to good use.” He grabbed the boy’s hair and lifted his own hips, making the distance doable as he shoved his face right into his crotch, expecting him to open wide and take it like a good boy. Except, it seems he wasn’t cooperating, causing Korekiyo to scowl as he took a moment to forcefully pry open his mouth and shove his dick in. It seemed the other had lost every bit of energy he had to both fight or move much in general. He was exhausted and he wanted this to be over. Sadly, the anthropologist had other plans, and they surely weren’t ending soon. 

“If you won’t do it yourself, I guess I will have to fuck your mouth myself.” It wasn’t like it was going to take long anyway. All that happened was enough to put him close to his peak already, his thrusts remaining feverish as he took hold of Saihara’s head with both hands for a better angle to work at. It was like his throat was stretched open after all he had went through already, making it much easier to force his length as far back as it could go. He couldn’t even gag anymore, he could do nothing but take it. It was quite a pathetic display, but it left Korekiyo with his an actual toy to use for his enjoyment, with enough warmth and lubrication, and not a single bit of protest. Replaying all that had went on within his head, his movements became frantic as that burning within his body reached climax, hot, thick cum shooting down the other’s throat as he held his head down as far as it could go for a few moments while his orgasm crashed over him. A flinch was all he could earn out of the detective as he felt it slide down his raw throat, praying that it was finally over. 

“Well, Saihara-san. You proved to be the most fascinating when in distress. Just as I thought. Look how worn down you are.” Pulling him up by his hair, he examined his face; pale, exhausted, and still dripping with various fluids. “You’re a mess.” With that being said, he pushed him back against the chair and stood up, tucking himself away back into his pants and shaking off his hands. He’ll have to burn this outfit after this, won’t he? So much mess just to see a lovely sight. Pulling a small pocket knife out of his back pocket, as he took a step forward, he cut through the rope restricting only one hand. He could figure out the rest himself. He’s a detective, isn’t he? 

“Thank you, Saihara-san. You prove to me that humans do have an unlimited beauty.” Even completely filthy like Korekiyo was right now, he left the room regardless, leaving the other to fend for himself in the absolute mess that was left.


End file.
